


Titled

by ProwlingThunder



Series: Stardust [9]
Category: Gundam Wing, Transformers
Genre: Aftermath of Destruction, Gen, No Gundam War AU, Recovery, Repurposed Transformers, Treize Lives, War With Aliens AU, life continues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21985639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProwlingThunder/pseuds/ProwlingThunder
Summary: When Treize is honest with himself-- and he usually isn't-- he is aware that titles and medals don't mean anything.
Series: Stardust [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/202877
Kudos: 4





	Titled

Treize is the Lord of the House of Kushrenada, a noble from a royal bloodline, a decorated veteran, a consummate soldier. He was awarded numerous medals, ribbons and shields, and not all of them from the Court of Albion. He held land, and titles, and a military command.

But, when Treize is honest with himself-- and he usually isn't-- he is aware that titles and medals don't mean anything.

Especially now.

The future Queen of Albion is a princess of five. She is Treize's cousin on his mother's side; his grandfather had been the third Prince of the family. Technically close enough he could have had the throne, potentially, but for now the Queen-Consort of the late King Arthur-- Treize's aunt in all but title, really, the same way Arthur had been when his uncle when he could be-- rules in her daughter's stead, helping quell the people from Albion that survived. Her oldest child, the princess, is the eldest of two, and the Queen-Consort is pregnant.

The title doesn't actually matter. Albion no longer exists as a nation; Earth is uninhabitable, and the colonies? Well. Most of the colonies are gone. The ones that survive might not last much longer.

“Albion exists as a people, Treize,” Minerva says, smoothing down the lapels of his formal uniform. He has to be dressed in full honors. It's a formal dinner, an evening for the adults to decompress. Treize lets her mother him, despite their closeness in age. It's healthy for her, and an unconscious gesture; he'd be remiss to ruin it for her. “And people are resilient. As long as they call themselves from Albion, it's not my place to say it doesn't exist.”

People were resilient indeed. Initial estimates of the fallout had proven to be false; a thousand had turned into a few thousand, and the few thousand had turned into a couple thousand and then some.

Most of the survivors were children, of course. Lots and lots of children. Someone, Treize wasn't sure who, was supposed to be working on an apprenticeship program to foster them later. But right now most of the children stayed in a central daycare, while teenagers and adults worked hard on making ships and shuttles live-able long term. Nobody knew when the colonies would be repaired, or if they even could be.

Long-term plans would be part of the discussion at dinner tonight. So would short-term plans. He wasn't sure how he would deal with it.

Minerva smiled at him. “Thinking about someone special?”

He closed his eyes and tried not to think about the first time he had seen suits in the sky, when the battles pressed through the atmosphere. The arc of red and white falling like arrows to earth, struck down by their opposition, years later.

The way, like fate, he had met a bristling young man under a mask, and a soft-smiling protege, and a dear, Lady Une, who had all become his closest friends.

He tried not to think about the day he had met Miss Barton, who's death still ached in his chest.

Minerva patted his chest once more, then stepped back to check the medallions were in their proper places. “It's alright. Come on, lets get the children to their party, and then you can walk me to dinner, Sir Kushrenada.”

He smiled and turned with her, striding forward to get the door. They shared a suite, because space was tight; three rooms and a small housing unit. His bedroom, hers, and the children's. But right now her two children and his own daughter sat in the community room. Mariemaia had her young cousin on her lap, letting the girl play with her tie. The older princess sat on the couch next to her, fiddling with her dress.

His niece was the first one to notice them. She squealed, pleased, and threw herself off the couch to come attach herself to his leg in greeting. “Uncle!”

His own daughter, more refined, inclined her head and held on to her charge. “Father. Aunt Minerva.”

“Are we all ready then?” Minerva laughed, quiet, and went to fetch her youngest while he scooped up the heiress. Mariemaia nodded, a little embarrassed, then smoothed the blanket on her lap and tucked in the corners so they would not catch in the wheels.

Treize went to open the door for them.

Alright. Some titles meant something.


End file.
